Till Death Do Us Part
by Without Worth
Summary: The journey is a long one, and with peace restored where will the paths of two soldiers cross? After a confrontation with his feelings for Heero, Duo takes off, for an unknown road ahead. But how long can one ignore fate? [told from Duo's p.o.v]
1. Author's Note I

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After the unexpected withdrawal from long awaited goal of peace, disrupted by Marimeia's professed declaration of war, then at last thrown askew, it seems, as it should, peace finally strove for restored, Things settle down, and the pace of the world continued, as it will always in the great scheme of things as they move on, old relics and disturbances discarded.Yet, not all. For some things, are not meant to be forgotten, and some afflictions and sentiments, are meant to endure...  
  
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I have long abandoned this story for my other writing ventures, but now I return to it with renewed fervor, or whatever that means. I'm hoping you don't find the beginning as melodramatic as I have, and perhaps take the time to sit down and read it. I can't really justify all the elements in this tale, or the reasoning behind some of the character's actions. But someone both wise and very close to me once said it isn't important to validate every element of a story, so taking that advice, I won't try. I'll simply do my best to let things flow. Anyway, I shall deliver a brief synopsis of my yarn for the reader's sole benefit. It is set after the Endless Waltz, and after a shocking encounter with Heero, Duo proceeds to take off, starting his life anew to the best of his ability. Yet, returns only a few months later, to pick of the remnants of the past and sort out buried emotion. How exactly did Duo react when, in the subtlest of means, Heero reaches out to him? In response, Duo is confronted by not only Heero, but himself as well. Instead of perhaps facing his own emotions, he does the only other thing he can think of. Run. Because of his fear of not being accepted, Duo disappeared, leaving Heero feeling incapable of human companionship. Yet emotions remain, not to be forgotten, and the severity of the time apart stretches forward, aging one from the inside out. Not all things are meant to be revealed, emotions run far deeper than one is willing to affirm, And in some cases, grief disguises secretive, influential yearning. Yet amid his confusion, sifting through the pieces, will Duo come to accept his own character first? And where will such revelations take him? All right, I'm done trying to foreshadow things. It is largely told from Duo's point of view, but the third, and sixth chapter [eventually] will be told from Heero's point of view. It is also rated R for future chapters. I hope you enjoy it. 


	2. breaking away

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Have you ever felt alone amid a crowd? Does that sound strange to say? I can't help feeling that way. I haven't seen snowfall in along time; I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel at this point. Perhaps I shouldn't think about it. The snow persistently fell, landing in mounds upon the thickly laden ivory ground, twirling through the air, blending into an ivory haze. I know it's taken for granted by most of the passerby, but I really can't take my mind off of it. I feel slightly out of my element, if that's the case. Of course, it's hard to recall a time where I wasn't out of place. It's hard to take your mind off it; this fierce cold is still fairly new to me. Which is why I couldn't avoid shuddering just then, my shoulders arched forward as I hunched, a shiver racking my sides. I quickly slid his palms heedlessly into my pockets, delving deeper into the leather fabric of my coat, seeking warmth I knew would be more along the boundaries of impossible in obtaining. My thoughts seem so jumbled all of a sudden. Maybe just led astray by the occurring snowfall, it did serve as a nice distraction. I titled my head numbly to the side, and released a ravaged sigh, my breath mingling in tiny billows with the frigid air of the surroundings. Slowly, with extreme care, I placed one foot in front of the other, continuing on, the soft tap of my boots along the stone sidewalk seemed to echo around me, momentarily jostling me from my reverie. Careless people shuffled and pushed their way by, I avoided them, proceeding to weave in and out of the fray. I kept my posture strait, resuming my path along the crowded street. I kept my vision fixed ahead, not pausing to glance at those around me. They were, after all, just civilians, droning on with frivolous banter, fragments of idle conversation filtering in an out of earshot. I quickened my step, lengthening my distance from the crowds. I suppose somewhere along the lines, over the tedious pass of time, as months crawled by like years, I'd purposefully sequestered myself from the outside. If you're wondering why, I can gather the most accurate response. There really wasn't anything left for me. I don't even know why I find myself here now. Looking back, if I had considered this just a month ago it would have seemed insane. It still seems crazy to me, even now. What am I doing, after all? I don't even know anymore. My shoulders slacked forward, stray strands of my hair toppled into my visage, before I reluctantly withdrew my curled hand situated within my coat, and tossed them aside with minimal effort. My hair always had a particular way of falling in my eyes. I've walked these streets before. Amid the other cheap thrill seekers, venders, and pedestrians, but never before have I felt so out of place. I Promptly stuffed my palms back into my jacket, shuddering once more, as a solitary snowflake cascaded from above, and landed obstinately against the small portion of flesh along the tip of my nose. Pulling the edges of my jacket closer against myself, I hurried on while the snow continued to fall without cease, plastering flakes against the leather material wrapped loosely around my shoulders and torso. I threaded myself easily through the masses, paying meticulous effort to avoid contact in even the lightest, my head hung numbly, studying the detail of my boots as I watched the sidewalk beneath me. Exactly when I had realized I'd been avoiding social contact, I'm not sure of. After all, who would notice, anyway? Days waned, slowly passing into the next. Time was meaningless, because there was no one to notice I was missing. When it came down to it. I had left, and no one had cared. Except for maybe him. My eyebrow furrowed just then at the recollection, and I suddenly became aware I had faltered in step. I tried my best to ignore it, and keep my steady pace, blocking out once more the trite conversations and trivial exchange of words around me. So my regrets were down to one. I advanced, slowly blotting out all coherent translation of the words and phrases around me, and plunging further into my thoughts, scarcely aware of the surroundings, as the figures which shuffled around me. They swirled together, into a blurred scenery of moving shapes. It didn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. And I have no one but myself to thank for that.   
  
  
I stopped abruptly, my figure blending within the masses of moving bodies, time slowed, my legs sluggishly raised and fell with laggard effort, and whether I was moving I couldn't really tell. Then, with warning, I detected out of the corner of my eye a single figure jolted from the crowd around me, and collided with my form, jarring me forcibly from my trance, as I took an uncertain step back. Before the startled person could react, or continue with mustering an apologetic remark, I slid my arm up, removing my hand from within the pouch of my pocket, and quickly bent my arm up into a bow, elbow out at an exact angle, a sickening gasp escaped from the unknown party before me as the pointed tip of my elbow found it's mark, sinking into the sensitive flesh along his ribs. He stuttered briefly, before the air seethed from his lungs, as he staggered backward into the crowd, being suspended for an instance by the mesh of bodies, then stumbling to the hard ground with a dull thud. A wry smile creased across my lips, as I carefully cracked my eyes open, since I'd momentarily closed them at some point during the contact. I shifted my weight to the side, my eyes darkened under the shadow of my bangs, concealing my features with eerie precision. I stuffed my clenched fists back into my pockets with care, as I released a quick reply.  
  
"Excuse me", I offered, over emphasizing the sarcastic hint in my voice. With that, I spun around on my heels, and immersed myself back into the tumult of shoving forms, making my way down the pathway.  
  
I plunged back into my thoughts; I gave a soft chuckle, which came out scarcely audible, only detected amid the indiscernible shapes by my own ears as I drew nearer to the curve of the street corner. It was then I paused for only a second, briefly regretting what I had done. That wasn't like me, was it? Well, who knows who 'me' is anyway. So much for that. It was then I heard a soft sloshing sound beneath my feet, as the water from a puddle splashed against my lower leg. I looked down in surprise, to meet my own reflection amid the swirling spiral of water, spinning under sudden disturbance. I cautiously moved my foot from the center of the puddle as not to obstruct my view. The water rippled slowly from the middle outward, before settling in its original position. It was then that I took in the full vision of my features. My lips had been turned up in a bitter smile now drew slack at the corners of my slightly parted mouth. The skin was pale, revealing a haggard countenance. My eyes, dull, and distant. Flawed and vacant. This is not me. God help me, that can't be me. I struggled with marshaling my strength, trying to ignore the dark rims around my eyes, backing away quickly, still gaping at the reflection. I was still so overcome. Silent horror, the unfamiliar person standing clearly beneath me, peering back with eyes I did not recognize. When had I allowed this to happen? What have I become? Does this mean I have nothing left? When I can't even will myself to look anymore. Have I completely lost sense with myself? I have been deceived all along. I thought I had been deceiving them, the world, when it was me who was deceived all along. An actor took the place of me. Have I been blind? Or lost? Lost within myself and my own mind? Whatever happened to that person I used to know so long ago? Whose eyes could cleverly conceal anything? I could easily fool them all, couldn't I? One grin, could trick them all. It was all in fun, quips and jests, and wiles. A subtle smile was all it took, always suggesting something more. But it was all just manipulation, wasn't it? It was alarming at times yet; I shrugged it off easily, because it wasn't really me. It blended with me, but this is not really who I am. It was all so different then. You would not understand, this is not who I am. This worn out facade, have I lost the will to conceal it? I feel so old in my shoes. What am I supposed to do? Somewhere along the line, this mask had faded to a resolve. What I choose is my choice, but given the chance, I would change if I could. I took an uncertain step back, those hollow eyes followed, never breaking the gaze, even as I spitefully kicked my foot forward at the settled pool, causing the water to spray up at all sides around my lower foreleg, as I stamped out the image. I will not accept this. It can't be possible. I dredged forward, beyond the spray of water droplets created by my step. I forcibly ripped my palms from within my jacket, processed my next steps across the concrete to the street corner, and raised one arm numbly to hail a cab.  
  
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	3. losing ground

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Inside, beyond the gnaw of cold, was the familiar sensation of emptiness. Hollow. Was that what it was, the term seemed to fiercely hold a stinging indignation. When what little contentment you had, vanishes? I shivered, jarring from my thoughts, as the fine hair along the nape of my neck bristled, before I stubbornly drew my arms up around me, in a feeble attempt to thwart the cold, sparking fatigue. Though snowfall had ceased, it had been replaced by the faint drizzle of rain pattering lightly against the top of my head. The rainfall trickled down through the blanket of milky white trees all around, causing loosened clumps of snow to cascade to the ground beneath them. I lifted my head slowly, urging my legs into motion to ascend the small stone stairs, which were only four in number, yet seemed an insurmountable obstacle to the growing weakness in my limbs.  
  
Then, crossing the small, tenuous pathway to the heavyset wooden door, I briefly absorbed the make of my surroundings. Before me, amid such a startling atmosphere, stood a miniature, rustic in appearance, log cabin, which, altogether was perplexing. I Paused for a moment to gather my thoughts, and attempt to ignore the doubts manifesting in my mind, I shifted my weight uneasily, the heel of my boot making a light grating sound along the ground as I stepped forward uncertainly, clasping the frigid, doorknob fixedly in the equally cold expanse of my palm, my fingers interlacing around the steel, and slowly, with utmost care, I gave it a small twist. To my surprise, the door parted open with an indecisive creak, and I mechanically took a hesitant step back. It was peculiar, that he had left the door open, I speculated, searching my mind for a reasonable explanation, yet I decided to try and shrug it off to the best of my ability. With meager reluctance, I broke stance, and stepped inside, shutting the door behind me with a dull nudge of my shoe. It closed with a soft click, which seemed to echo around me. Struggling to adjust my eyes to the moderately dim receptacle, save the sallow light of midday pouring generously in through a single window, I paused at the threshold to scrape a few scattered flakes of snow from the material of my jacket. Repetitively, I tossed several strands of hair from my eyes, yet I lingered the heel of my palm along the base of my forehead, gathering a handful of hair between my entwined fingers. Almost as if to quell myself, I knew I shouldn't be here. But would it be so wrong to stay? Would he even want me to stay? I scanned the room, finding it to be empty for the moment, and breathed a silent sigh of relief. I'm finding I'm no longer afraid. With every step this becomes clearer. And more startling at the same time. All the fear has left me now. I raised my head with earnest effort; I'm surprised to find that I'm almost ashamed to even be here. I took a tiny step forward, soaking in the surroundings.  
  
Toward the center of the room sat a narrow, wire bed, the sheets drawn up and tucked beneath the twin, ivory pillows, creased in obvious perfection, which seemed, of course, as to be expected. Adjacent to the headboard stood a wobbly, wooden beside table, which remained bare of any objects. I stepped forward silently, taking my time as if in some effort not to disturb the secluded environment, and I purposefully dodged the mirror against the wall to the left, not wanting to be startled by the reflection. I'm frightened. By what my eyes have found. What they have seen. So I choose not to look anymore. I turned to the right, noticing an oak desk, the matching chair pulled out to the side at a conflicting angle. I reached out, moving the chair away from my position as to not obstruct my path, so I could study the objects before me.  
  
The desktop was nearly bare, except for a menagerie of scattered, loose papers splayed out in different directions. On the surface, was the computer's monitor, still dark, the case leaning beside it. I paused before this, and reached out, studying the empty screen, as I proceeded to stare blankly at my outstretched hand, before running my quivering fingers along the keys, in recollection. They were cold to the touch. Involuntarily, a ravaged sigh escaped my slightly parted, frozen lips, and I was startled momentarily, the tinny sound hardly seemed to register. It didn't even sound like me. When had I changed so much? That even my voice had been robbed of its familiar quality? And what remains? A shadow I don't recognize. I took a stumbling step backward, attempting to calm the panic churning within, as I turned, hunching my his shoulders forward in a slouch, my gaze diverted to the floor. That was when I caught sight of something beside the leg of the bed. I leant down, steadying myself, and reached out shakily, gathered the heap of rumpled material into my coiled hands. I focused on the familiar garment, a white, long sleeved cotton shirt, causing me to shudder in spite of myself. I regained my posture, as I slowly rose to my feet on precarious limbs, straining with the effort. I distractedly stepped toward the bed before me, clutching the piece of clothing closer to my sides with fragile care, while I reached out with trembling fingers, tracing the line along the ivory pillows nestled against the bed. My hands continued trembling, much to my regret. What's left for me now? Sympathy is wasted on me. I stared down at my curled fingers, tapering them along the edges of the fabric. Shorted with hesitation, I gingerly withdrew the article of clothing from the nook of my arm, and folded it against my side, before wadding it in a ball, placing in the slip of the first inner breast pocket of my jacket. I paused momentarily to brush my palm over the soft material of the first pillow. Then, Backing up abruptly, my shoes grazing the floor, I scanned the room a final time, before I spun around languidly, and crossed the distance between the bedstead and the closed door. Pulling the door apart with mediocre effort, I stepped back outside, and into the storm, which had now advanced in magnitude and force.   
  
I closing the door behind me, as I sharply turned the corner along the side of the house. My boots sank into the undisturbed snow, giving way on the untrodden pathway, creating dull crunching sounds beneath my footfall. When I reached the back of the house, I noticed the hill gave way to a steady incline, and I once again found myself striking my hands together in a futile attempt to regain warmth. I looked down quizzically; my gaze met a break in the steady, carpeted white ground, marked by a trail of consistent footprints, leading away from the rear of the cabin and down the slope of the hill. Shifting my weight, I approached the hill, offset at a precarious angle, and slid down the side, my shoes sinking deeply into the mounds of snow, my ankles slipping into the soft earth. I regained my stance, then as if galvanized into action, I jogged the distance down the foot of the hill, eager to see where to the footprints finally lead, which had followed consecutively along the distance down the slope. The imprints began once more, set into the ground before me, then curved off beyond the first, towering spike of a fir tree at the bed of the hill. I paused uncertainly, while studying the scattered, spare forest ahead, and with hesitance, I traced the indented footprints with my own along past the first ivory clad tree. But what happens if I do locate what I'm looking for here? There's only one way to find out. I'm having trouble dealing with these changes, it's hard to accept what's before me, but I feel I must, in order to face what tomorrow might bring.  
  
Ignoring the sting of cold at my exposed features, I wove around the scarce, narrowly sparse trees, yet kept a watchful eye on my intended path, until I paused briefly, where the array of trunks broke way in a small circle. I gazed up toward the canopy around me, studying in silent fascination the faint, oncoming raindrops dappling down from above, intermittent with the pale glow of the hidden sun, concealed by dense, thick, gray clouds overhead. I subconsciously extracted my hands from my pockets, raising them to my sides suddenly, as I felt the onslaught of the thrumming rain intensify, until my hair was plastered lightly to my forehead. All around, trees loomed up, poking and striking against the skyline like spears, occasionally shedding their snowy blankets. I bent my head under the receding drizzle, focusing on my sinking shoes in the ground, while shifting my position in the ankle deep snow. Absently, I lifted my arm out before me, holding my palm open, watching with odd fascination as remnants of the downpour gathered in the crevices of my hand, then spilled over the side. I froze just then, as I heard a low sound off to my left, an additional pair of footsteps joining my own.  
  
Somehow, in some incomprehensible and unimaginable way, I wasn't shocked, why should I be? I came here on my own. I knew what I was getting myself into. I Slowly turned my head to face him, the rain, which ran in rivulets between my temple, plastered stray, sticky strands of my bangs in my eyes. I was no longer afraid. Only, afraid to let him see me like this. How much had my appearance changed? How much had I been changed from the inside out? I'd aged so much since then. Turning to look at him, I know now, I will have to face this. I will face my fears, as my fears stand before me. I spun around carefully to look at him. But it's strangely comforting, in some way, He doesn't appear to have aged a day.  
  
Heero's eyebrow furrowed as he gazed forward, fixing on my figure. I couldn't move. His own features had slowly grown with the passage of time. His dark brown hair was slightly longer, yet his features hadn't changed at all. He shifted his weight to his right foot, his slender arms drawn up tightly against his chest, concealing the sculpt of his build, his hands hidden from view in the lump of his wool sweater. Why haven't you changed? This makes things so much more difficult. His eyes slowly drifted over to meet mine, crossing the few feet which separated us. I tried to restrain my shivering, whether it was the cold, or that fact that I didn't know how much longer I could stand this silence. I locked gaze with him suddenly, after I noticed he was staring directly at me. What lies behind those eyes? Deep Blue. If anything, time had seemed only to add to their magnitude. I hung my head then. I'm afraid of what you might think of me now. I don't want you to see me like this. You wouldn't recognize me. Your eyes don't hold the cares they do now. The bitterness of one who's left alone. I've come to you for guidance. Or maybe retribution? But I don't know where to begin. Maybe you could meet me halfway? I've got a lot to lose, but none of it matters anymore. Tell me where to begin, it's foolish to ask this of you, but almost implore it. What would an angel say to that? The devil wants to know.   
  
Those simple words, repeated over an over in my mind, words echoing, until they lost all literal meaning. How could this be? You wouldn't even want me here anymore, would you? I can't say that I blame you. Maybe I shouldn't turn around. But it's too late for any of that. I'm too far-gone. Too far gone to care. Why would you even have me? When it seems like yesterday, but it really was so long ago. I would change myself, if I could. But I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then. I guess I lost my way. Could you show me the way back? Could I find shelter here? I know I don't deserve it, but I would do anything to make it so.  
  
The distance in your eyes.  
  
And the fault is mine. I felt my hand withdraw from my side, extending my quaking palms to support my forehead disbelief. I felt my fatigued legs fall slack then as I lost my balance, sliding into the masses around me, the mesh of soft earth catching my fall. I vaguely recalled seeing Heero's footsteps moving erratically toward my fallen form, and then fueled toward my side suddenly by the dull thump of my frame colliding into the mounds of snow as I slumped over. My vision blurred, and I stared up bleakly at the towering trees, as swaths of crimson washed over my vision, and I wondered, if the sky had momentarily caught on fire, or if it was simply a mirage before consciousness failed. And I find myself silently wishing for it to end just now. Was I slipping farther away? Lying here on the swollen ground. The surroundings are shifting, all I can see now are shapes. Just shapes, drifting into one another. I'm blending, bleeding, into the scenery. Would it even matter? Is this the part where I die? I would have laughed at myself, if I hadn't lost all feeling in my limbs. I looked up, as I saw Heero cautiously leaning above me, the outline of his face fading, but I can still make out your wavy face. His features softened just then, as I saw his hands lowered, reaching out to me. With what strength is left, I can't deny what I feel. I numbly raised my hand from my side, struggling to meet my palm with his. I'm losing it. Help me. I'm so out of touch. I never told you, that maybe you were always the light on the dark side of me. Why can't I see that light anymore? I'm barely breathing. I can't find the air. My lungs feel strained. I felt my head loll back, connecting with the ground, a lifeless thud. I gazed up absently, watching as the shapes above me swirl, twisting and turning into one another until my vision was dyed red, before blackness blotted out all. The infinite darkness. The beacon, the familiarity, is all that is left to me. It is all that I know. Welcome home.  
  
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	4. the waiting

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The smoldering embers crackled within the small fireplace, simmering in the heat. Heero was balanced in a crouching position, steadily withstanding his stance with nimble poise, his leg muscles pulled taut, bunched together so he was gathered on his haunches. Jutting his palms out to meet the warmth of the flames before his frozen form, he bent his hands forth in an attempt to alleviate the cold. Slowly, he rotated his hands to absorb the heat emitting from the flames, blandly attempted to take his mind of the preceding events. His eyes wandered, drifting forward to the shadow of the flames dancing along the wooden floorboards. Was there something I missed? He thought to himself, before turning his gaze to the flickering light, studying the flames intently as if there were some unknown object hidden within the tumbling mass of embers. A fickle and fragile flame. Sallow light reflecting in his calm blue eyes, the roaring flames before him flashing briefly, shrouded his visage. With twilight approaching, shadows displayed intermittently against the hardwood floor, casting a mixture of darkness fended off by a pale glow of receding sunlight.   
  
Trying to quell the pulsating adrenaline pumping within him, he fought back his feelings of detachment, yet, unavoidable; his thoughts wouldn't cease, and washed over him, settling like a beacon in his mind. These doubts resurface, smothering one's mind like a thick blanket. Despite his resolve, he couldn't drown out the recollections, which he would like not have been able to recall. Thoughts and memories jumbled in his brain, until the silence was stifled by noise. He stared forward, until his perception of the objects before him blurred and multiplied, allowing the tumult of his mind to overtake him briefly, and whether or not he was screaming, he could not rightly guess, the only sound that greeted his ears was the tinny crackling of the flames before him. Then, struck off guard, he stiffened; his ravaged nerves jarred from his momentum, as he hunched his shoulders back, and then plastered a hand against his temple, trying to relieve the stinging in his eyes, which still glittered with the reflection of the feverish flames. What had happened just then? Or more accurately, what happens now?  
  
Slowly, he raised from his crouched position half heartedly, bunching his slender arms to enclose his waist. He still felt mildly chilled, or, perhaps, it was the internal cold, which wafted from the inside out. Shivering at the thought, he clenched his palms tighter around his ribs, and laggardly stepped back from the crackling fireplace, releasing a heavy sigh, detecting the strain against the rise and fall of his chest. Breath deep, the gathering gloom. Am I just to follow my instincts blindly? Am I just to try and stand it? It can't be so easy to give in. To turn my back would seem foolish, but to go blindly, is senseless. Adjusting his eyes to the near vacant floor, he leant down awkwardly, to collect the sopping wet garments scattered beneath him, fumbling to grasp the heap of fabric in his trembling fingers, his figure bent over his work.   
  
Thankful for something to divert his attention, he gathered the remaining articles of clothing and draped them alongside the matching jacket, which still hung down upon his rickety desk chair, with the weighted water from the snow, now silently splattering clear droplets of water onto the wood floor. He paused hesitantly before the soaked coat, and repositioned the dripping fabric. It was taking poorly to drying, despite his efforts, and this dissuaded him. Reaching forward, he raised the jacket, which was swollen with the weight, and, to his surprise, he caught sight of a second garment, a flash of white before he reached forward, tugging the folded piece of cloth from the jacket. Puzzled, he gathered the article of clothing into his hands, fingers clasping the edge of his discarded shirt. He studied it for a moment, tapering his hands along the creases, before he carefully elevated his gaze, eyes falling forward to the end of the bed. Letting the garment slid from his solid clutch, he swiveled his head to the side, toward his now inhabited bed, gazing upon the still form of the occupant. Heero carefully maneuvered his step, his stride almost rushed, yet he was cautious as to not create any extra noise to disturb the sleeping figure before him. Reaching out, he grasped the cold metal wire of the bed railing between his fingers, and tentatively contemplated the one before him.  
  
Duo lay positioned on his stomach, the comforter pulled up along the dip of his upper back, revealing a bare portion of his shoulder under the heavy blanket. His head was lolled ornately to the side against the matching ivory pillow, catching in noteworthy contrast to the pale pallor of his flesh, which, gratefully, had resumed some of its original color. His mouth was slightly parted wide against the material, his breathing shallow yet not so much restrained. His dappled, auburn hair was twisted and planished smooth against his back, spilling out onto the sheets beside him, yet it had become unraveled slightly to the midway part of the braid, leaving the bottom half strewn messily about him. His legs were entwined beneath the tumult of bedding, while his left hand had was placed beneath the pillow where his head lay, trapped beneath the weight, while his right, dangled off the side of the mattress, his fingers trailing inches above the floor.   
  
Studying the sight before him, he twinged involuntarily, unwillingly facing his addiction, and he absently wondered how such an attraction had been allowed to endure. Perhaps, he wondered to himself, he was not inclined to abandon such feelings, for over the months they had only solidified. How does he except I will know what to do? He mused to himself.Then, without warrant, he had appeared once more, as mysteriously as the first instance, leaving him to once again sift and sort through such emotions he had so cleverly tried to conceal. He pursed his lips together, wanting to question so many subjects, if not to the one before him, to the teasing silence, in an attempt to seek relief. Stifling his musings, he swallowed thickly, his voice trapped in yearning, yet he refrained from disturbing the quieted atmosphere. Absently, he leaned forward, observing to himself, behind Duo's lidded eyes, they quivered, as if in some troubled dream like trance, and, unable to restrain himself, he snaked his shivering hand out to his temple, brushing the plastered locks from amid his eyes gingerly. He surprised when the formerly still figure shifted ever so lightly against the touch, and Heero backed away slowly, clutching his hand as if it had been stung, constraining the impulse to wake him, to receive the answers he desired, yet he contained himself.  
  
Taking a relinquished step backwards, he slid earnestly into the wooden desk chair, stroking his throbbing temple amid his bangs, and folded his arms against his chest, and leaned back drowsily, feebly struggling to thwart the tired sensation threatening to overtake him. His eyes settled back on the bed, never moving from him. The fall was never so fearsome, but if I should fall, you're going down with me. And hard. He focused his view to the barren floor, before flicking his eyes back to Duo momentarily. It's a long way down, but it's too late. He lidded his eyes silently, surrendering to whatever troubled sleep may come.   
  
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	5. Author's Note II

Now, I think there is a peculiar way this story reads, since I wanted to set up the exposition, and then do a few later chapters which document what Duo and Heero were doing during the months they were separated. It's sort of like four flashback scenes, to illustrate what actually transpired between them that caused Duo to leave in the first place, followed by three additional scenes occurring when they were apart. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I have posted the first scene in a series of four, which begins in the next chapter, the part where Duo takes off. 


	6. the voyage

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The sun was nearly set, casting a sallow light mixed with crimson along the water, smooth and still like the surface of a mirror. The sun was sinking slowly in horizon, where the skyline encircled the sea. The sky above burnt red and gold from the receding rays, shadows flickering across my hands, which were resting in my lap. The new moon hung low in the sky, a beacon of light, washed out, but in roughly twenty minutes it would soon rise, signaling the end of another day, by the approach of night. I shifted my weight, sighing softly to myself as a light breeze picked up, salty air sweeping over my features. I was sitting on the edge of the wooden dock, my feet suspended in air a yard or so from where the water pooled beneath the structure. He was poised beside me, his legs positioned next to mine, his hands firmly fixed on the edge of the wooden planks, as he leaned slightly forward. The wind continued toying with my hair, guiding my bangs into my eyes as I studied the moving shadows before me, the ocean streaked yellow. I kept my gaze steady, as I extended my outstretched palms, propping my arms up behind me to support the weight of my upper body. I proceeded swinging my legs back and forth, taking in the sight before me. It had been a long time since I had been able to just loosen up, and kick back. I think it had been that way for everyone, perhaps we could finally get on with our lives. Of course, that left only one posing question: What to do now? I'm not exactly sure. I always thought it would be such a long way off, but now that I could finally put all the fighting behind me, was I getting a second chance? And if so, what am I supposed to do with it? An interesting query. I'm not sure where any of this will lead, but it's a nice start. I shook my head, tossing the hair from my eyes as I released another sigh, more from relief, if that makes any sense. I leaned forward, jutting both my arms into the air, stretching my muscles before placing both my arms against my thighs, keeping my legs still. I turned my attention to him just then, studying his features. Heero remained silent, focused intently ahead. I felt a soft smile crease across my lips as I watched him, his face passive, wind tugging at the stray strands of his dark hair, billowing against the fabric of the white long sleeved shirt he wore. It had obviously been carefully chosen, tucked in at the waist of his dark denim jeans. The fading light shone along his features, across my lap, and I averted my eyes just then, finally aware I had been staring. I glanced down at my own garments for a second-the familiar black hues, my eyes falling to my hands. Narrow fingertips, more pale than anything else. I turned away, smoothing the fringe of my bangs from my eyes, angling my head to the side to look at him fully. And before I could restrain myself, I reached up, pausing my fingers above his forehead to brush the hair from his eyes. He turned to me just then, in question, a slightly puzzled look on his features. I pulled my hand away abruptly, and cleared my thought suddenly as if to shrug the gesture off.   
  
"Well, now that all this is over I think I owe it to myself to relax", I declared, hoping to distract him away from my action, as I sighed once more, eyes traveling out across to the darkening sky.  
  
He remained quiet, not moving from his position as I watched the view before us. I continued, hoping to break the silence.  
  
"What about you Heero? Do you have any plans"? I persisted, glancing briefly in his direction.  
  
He slowly turned to look me, tilting his head to the side, and I was momentarily taken aback by the solemn quality of his face. I hesitated, as he regarded me intently, his eyes somewhat distant, some sort of variation, I couldn't really register. I lowered my gaze, switching positions as I drew my leg up beside me, resting the heel of my shoe on the edge of the dock. There were dim lights glimmering overhead, the city stretched behind us. I turned to look at him once more, surprised to find he had been studying me, without so much as a sound. I angled my head for an instant, trying to decipher the expression on his face, before turning my attention away, staring back out toward the sea line.   
  
"Are you headed for someplace"? I asked him plainly, resuming with my original question, and not altogether wondering why I felt so awkward all of a sudden. I saw him fidget slightly, before glancing quickly in my direction, then turning back to face straight ahead.  
  
"I will not go, if I know I will be leaving something behind". He said softly, his voice trailing off at the end. I froze for a minute, absorbing his words. What exactly had he meant? I struggled to find a suitable response, my thoughts momentarily obscured. I couldn't really pinpoint the nature of his reply, so I did my best to keep my composure. I gave a soft chuckle, closing my eyes momentarily while keeping my gaze focused in my lap.  
  
"I don't know where I'll be off to", I offered, smiling to myself while I withdrew my arm from resting atop my leg, before resuming their original position, slinging down in front of me. I placed my palms flat against the caps of my knees, vexing my eyebrows once. I saw him turn his head to look at me slowly, his eyes settling, as I leveled my gaze with his own.   
  
"Will you stay"? He uttered softly, the words almost too strained to be audible. I carefully angled my neck so I could look at him fully, and I couldn't really understand why I felt my heart racing just then.  
  
  
"With me"? He mumbled. It was what occurred next that really startled me. He slid his hand over slightly, to where my palm was rested, gently overlapping his fingers with mine, resting the heel of his palm over my trembling hand, pausing in place. I swallowed thickly, sickeningly aware of the thudding of my heart in my chest cavity, the blood pulsing at my temple. His hands were warm, the skin smooth. It was then I felt my sides quaking, and I immediately fell silent, my mouth opening numbly, searching my mind hopelessly for the proper words, to no avail. My mouth remained mute. As my voice screamed inside my head. I felt his fingers lace in between my own, giving my palm a small squeeze, twining the hold further. I don't know what to say. Why am I hanging onto this moment so dearly? I can't see through this charade. I'll speak a little louder. I'll even shout. I can't get the words out. And what would I say if I could? That I'm reveling in this moment? By this one fluid gesture, I'm petrified. I withheld a gasp caught in my throat, fighting to restrain myself. I leaned back slightly, breaking our contact. He turned to look at me in confusion, no. It was more than that. He had the most heartbroken look on his face that time. What have I done? I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I inched away, trying to relieve the tension, dispelling a quieted laugh at my own expense, but it came out more bitter.  
  
"You don't really want to have me around", I deferred, drawing my legs up in front of me. He didn't move. His hand was still poised motionless from where I'd left it.  
  
"Shouldn't I be the one to say what I want"? He objected, his voice firm, without turning to look at me.   
  
I inhaled deeply, burning the air into my lungs. I would change things if I could. But don't you see? I just can't be good to anyone else like this. Why does it have to be this way? I wished it didn't. I'd do anything to change it. But I can't. Destiny says that I'm destined to fall.   
  
"You're better off". I managed to choke out, as I felt myself numbly raising to my legs, the idle limbs, working beneath me. The dull scrape of my shoes against the wood, as I backed away, trying desperately to maintain my balance. I heard him distantly call my name, flooding into my ears as I stumbled away, followed by one simple word. Don't. The echo of shattered pride made no sound yet left an unfathomable wound. Don't turn around, don't look back. This is tearing me apart inside. I'm enchanted you thought you saw something in my eyes. Enchanted, it's a shame that you wanted  
Me. I didn't mean to cause any trouble for you, but it seems that's the story of my life.   
  
I struggled to steady myself on precarious limbs, before I veered around, breaking off into a dead run.   
My feet rapping against the wood planks, a relentless sound as I crossed the distance from the dock and onto solid ground, my footfall thundering in my ears. Night had descended, cold air stinging my face, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, sides burning from the motion. You've left me now, as I've left you. We're already so far apart, too far to breach. You're so strong, you almost brought me too my knees. And I'm just the opposite, which is why I can't stay. Because I don't think I can handle this at all. There's no time to spare. I have to get away from here. I'm running from gravity. Lest I get pulled down. I'm hanging on the edge, but I won't teeter. And I ran, I ran so far away. Listen to the hunter becoming hunted. I turned a corner sharply, nearly losing my footing, not focusing on where I was going. The subtle crunch of gravel beneath my boots as I pressed on, stray strands of my hair whipping me in the face. I didn't stop. I won't stop for anything. I continued pumping my legs, not caring about the throbbing of my muscles, or that fact that I was becoming winded astonishingly fast. I glanced around quickly; aware I was bolting down some sort of avenue, yet I didn't relent. I kept my erratic pace, drawing my arms up to my sides, sucking in deeper breaths as I willed my body to go faster. I just ran. Without any idea whatsoever where I was going. I just had to get away. Get far away. I'm running more from myself than anything else. I can't accept anything yet, because I can't even accept myself. It was only an hour ago, It was all so different then. It's just the way I'm tied in, I can't let go. It's all done with. I grieve. I grieve for myself, but mostly you. I've got this secret; I've been hiding, under my skin. I wish I could scream out loud. I wish I could tell you. But I can't. You'll learn to live without me. These feelings are getting stronger, which is why I have to ignore them. Just run away. He's gone. I pressed on, clenching my eyes shut, willing myself to go on. Night is my companion, and solitude my guide. Take it away; don't take it away- my heart bleeds. I didn't want it to be this way. Deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you. I have to go. It's better this way. I'm in over my head; the odds are too against us, which is why it has to be this way. I fall down. Hit the ground, make a heavy sound, Every time you seem to come around. But I have the sense to recognize I still can't let you go. I urged my legs to move faster, I still can't get away. No one can help me now, I'm in too deep. I disappeared that day. For where, I don't rightly recall. I just knew I had to get away. That was our last good-bye.   
  
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End file.
